Dream 90

This was a really lengthy dream which I kept waking up from (it occurred in the morning) and then returning to. I thought I could recall it in full - which was a little optimistic - and only made a few brief notes in my notebook to prompt recall. However, I cannot recall how the scenes linked and some of my memories are really vague and abstract. 

I saw myself in third person, in the dark, lying back on some grass, leaning up on my elbows. I could not see that there was any difference from my real-life appearance - my hair was long and black as it really is. I was joined by a male, who joined me on the grass. I thought it was EB, but I was confused as his hair appeared to be different. He was wearing a white T-shirt. I think I referred to his hair, because he touched his head.

I was then standing up - and became aware that we were at some kind of outside fair, festival or carnival - there were stalls and people all around and strings of bright lights. I was then inside one of the stalls. PS was running it - it appeared to be a gun shop. He held a gun out (a bright shiny silver revolver), horizontally across both outstretched palms to show me. There was some conversation, but I cannot remember what was said. I realised we were staying at a holiday camp - which was hosting the festival. I was now outside some toilet cubicles - like fancy portaloos. I had a drink in my hand - a clear fizzy drink in a plastic cup. There were other people standing around the toilets and the atmosphere seemed relaxed.

I was then in a well-lit interior - it was a large house, in a strange, completely monochrome minimalistic style which appeared to be influenced by retro 1970s futuristic designs. There were clean white arches and lots of curved, circular furniture. RL was present - I think it may have been his home. There was some reference to Dalmations or a kind of spotty dog - I'm not sure if I saw the dogs. I looked through one of the arches at the bottom of the room, which led to an open-plan kitchen area. I could see a lot of Christmas decorations hung. I sensed some form of 'threat' or 'menace' and decided to leave. RL smiled at me in a very strange way.

I was in a dark warehouse or factory - on a field trip with a group of other people. We walked past a round object - it looked like a 'chocolate fountain', but much larger. It was dirty and was pouring a neon green slime from a sort of mechanical spout in the centre, down into the trough. The slime was then sucked back up into the spout and this continued. I was told: "this is the lungs of a smoker".

I was then told by someone - I am not sure who and I am not sure of my exact surroundings - that Freud and Ricky Gervais had (together, in partnership) come up with a new famous quote. The quote was: "a successful person is one who fails at everything". I felt peace of mind when I heard this quote and I 'remembered' which book I would find it in if I wanted to read it from source. 

There was a conversation with PP. I do not know what was said, but it occurred while we were seated next to one another in a brightly lit interior. I thought: 'why is he talking to me now?'

I woke up. If I recall any other scenes from this dream (sometimes they come back to me spontaneously!) I will update below.

Dream 89

I was walking down an urban city street. There were tall grey buildings (grand looking) lining each side of a wide street. I was walking down the street with a group of people - it seemed like we were tourists. It was daylight. Some people had backpacks. Someone asked me if I knew (London-based, underground) rap musician, KK. I said I did. I turned around and saw KK was behind me.

I was then in an unfamiliar room, sitting at a large table. My mum was there and so was RR, a girl I knew at school and who is a friend on Facebook. I stood up and said something to RR. I do not recall what it was, but she became very angry. I sensed a threat of danger. I picked up a glass and threw it at a wall, smashing it. I saw it smash in slow motion, as it hit the bottom of the wall. The threat seemed to have ended, but my hand hurt. I looked at my palm and saw that four shards of glass were embedded there. I took a pair of tweezers and pulled out one of the pieces of glass - it was about three inches long and the pain was horrific. I didn't want to pull out the other three, but my mum said I had to. I did it, with great pain. Long white strands of gunge - perhaps the inner flesh of my hand - began to pour out of the wounds. I poked it all back into place. I wondered if I needed to go to hospital to get stitches, but found my hands had instantly healed. 

I saw a close up of some teeth (my teeth?). They were totally rotten. A finger touched them. 

I was laying in bed, when my mobile rang. It was SL. We had a conversation and when it came time to say 'goodbye' I was hesitant and the call ended awkwardly. I told him not to forget me. 

I was returning from the shops. I had gone out to buy a snack. I had a drink in my hand and a baguette. I started talking to someone - I think it could have been PS. I sat down on the edge of a outside, concrete fountain - which appeared out of nowhere, as I started this dream scene by entering a doorway into an interior space. I looked at the baguette and discovered it was a BLT. I don't usually eat pork, but I decided I might as well as it was all I had available to eat.

Dream 88

I was wearing a white prom dress, but was disappointed to find that I had a huge black stain on the left side of it. I was very conscious of the stain. I was in a square room where everything seemed to be red. There were people sitting around the edges of the room - it seemed like a party of some sort. 

I wandered through to the next room - it was a nightclub/bar with wooden furniture. In the centre of the room was what I thought to be a jukebox. However, on closer inspection it turned out to be a fruit machine. However, this was a touchscreen one, which could be used to access Facebook. I was shocked to see that it was logged into my profile. I went to click on my friend's profile, but instead noticed an update from PS's account. It was promoting a hardcore band, called 'Red October' (I was not previously aware of a hardcore/emo band named this, but upon Googling it, I found there are several hardcore/emo bands called 'Red October'/'The Red October'. I will investigate and report further. Also note, PS only promotes UK hip hop and hates all hardcore/emo bands intensely and therefore would never post suchlike on his Facebook, much less promote!). I felt a tap on my shoulder, then someone pulling me backwards, towards them. I turned and saw it was a male - a typical 'hardcore kid' as I would describe him. I thought he was beautiful. He had black hair in a side-sweep and a overgrown fringe, flesh tunnels in his ears; tattoo sleeves; a band T-shirt - all very predictable, stereotypical of what I would expect. He had an olive complexion and black eyes, and was exactly my height. He told me he was the singer from Red October. I said that I wanted to hear his band play. We were now standing off to the side, leaning against a bar, which was long and grey. I could see neon lights behind the boys head. He was talking to me in a friendly, intimate manner, but I became shy and tongue-tied. I said to him: "I really love screamo and hardcore and..." I tried to say: "post-hardcore" but kept stumbling on my words. I began walking backwards. It felt like I was walking down steps. The boy was trying to reach out to me saying: "It's OK, I know what you meant..." I then found myself downstairs, in what appeared to be a boxing ring. I was standing on the outside, with the rest of the audience. The boy was with me again. it was dark and there were flashing neon lights. I said to him: "I love Deftones and Glassjaw" and he seemed enthusiastic. I felt confident that I had expressed myself well this time and that we had connected over our shared musical interests. I looked down and became aware that I was wearing a cheerleader outfit - a cropped orange sweatshirt and matching mini-skirt. 

I was then sitting at a computer, in an old-fashioned living-room with floral wallpaper and curtains and lots of lace furnishings and teddy-bears on a dresser. I was researching guitars and kept looking up out of the window - the scene was leafy suburbia, but the weather was gloomy and overcast.

I was then on a bus, seated somewhere near the back. I was watching the people at the front of the bus, when I suddenly realised that the singer from Red October looked like or could have been someone I knew from university, called IM. I then wondered if I was mistaken.

Below are some random images which reflect the 'hardcore/screamo kid' seen in my dream.

Dream 87

Dream date: 29th September 2012

I saw a navy blue car parked in a residential street in north-west London, from the back. It was night. I was then in my nan, PC's livingroom.She was sitting on the sofa. I was standing, looking in the mirror above the fireplace. She kept telling me there was a letter for me, under the other sofa cushion. I was getting angry, telling her I didn't care about it. She was insistent I look at the letter. Eventually, after quarreling for some moments, she retrieved the letter. It was not in an envelope, but it was two A4 pieces of paper, stapled at the top left corner. From the back, I could see through the paper - there were some typed words and some editing in thick black marker pen. I screamed at PC that the letter did not matter, as it was years old and related to university. She started reading the letter. I sat at her feet. She looked at me and I stared back. She was crying. I felt terrible.

I was then alone in the living-room. I became aware that a young, white male with light hair had entered the house. I do not know who he was or remember anything else about him. I had a deep sense of dread. I knew something terrible was about to happen. I said: "You're going to rape me, aren't you?" and he said: "Yes, that's why I'm here..." He walked through the door, from the hallway into the living-room. He lunged at me, grabbing me from behind. I started kicking at him and found a large knife in my pocket. I stabbed it backwards, over my head at him. He fell away from me, and tried to make his way out of the house, although I do not think I caught him with the blade. I knew he had my purse. I ran after him and jumped on his back, putting the knife at his throat. He let go of my purse and made an escape from the house. I walked outside, and once on the garden path, checked that all my money and cards were still in my purse. They were. I went out to the roadside. There was a car parked outside the house, with three young males leaning on it. Two were white, one was black. They asked me if I was OK. I said: "I nearly got raped in there" and they expressed shock. 

I was then in a state where I was unsure of my surroundings. I could hear a song - a melody and words (I cannot recall what song which was, it was lost upon waking). I was tasked with the job of identifying the song. I knew it in the dream, but could not remember the name of the song or the artist and was becoming frustrated. A female voice - detached, I could not see its owner - told me I had failed. My new job was to count porcelain racehorses which were running in laps around a racetrack. Every time one of the 'diseased' horses passed the position in which I was standing, I had to sing a song (again, I cannot remember it).

Dream 86

Dream date: 28th September 2012

I was in some kind of booth - like an old fashioned bank of some sort. There was a counter with partitions for privacy. Everything seemed vague and sepia-coloured, wishy-washy - making me think of Wild West films. I looked down at my hands. I saw I was holding banknotes and coins. I began counting them fast, flicking them through my fingers, like a bank-teller does with notes. I said (to someone unseen): "I bet you haven't seen someone count money as well as I can..."

I was then in a bedroom, laying front down across the width of the bed, on top of a white duvet. JH was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, in front of me. She showed me a two-page spread in a fashion magazine, where she was featured as a model. There were close-up images of her face. I admired them.